


Greenhouse

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Fluff, Practically Everyone Heckles Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: After agreeing to give their marriage an honest try for six months, Harry asks Draco to move in with him, takes him out to dinner, and sets some basic ground rules.





	Greenhouse

**Author's Note:**

> Just a side note - that isn't really important to the story yet, but could be worth knowing. This takes place in mid November, which is roughly 6 months before their anniversary, and one of the reasons Draco suggests six months as their trial period.

_Dear ~~Potter~~ Harry,_

_After discussing the situation with my parents and Astoria, I've decided that I will humor you._

Draco frowned and scratched that last bit out.

_That you're right._

Salazar's sweaty sack! Those words left an acrid taste in Draco's mouth and he hadn't even said them out loud. With a sigh, he pressed on.

_We should give the marriage a try because..._

Erm... Because why? What had Harry said? Something about only getting married once and doing whatever it takes to make his spouse happy? Actually, those were reasons that Draco could get behind. First of all, he was raised to only get married once as well, but he wasn't counting a drunken mistake like Harry so obviously was. And secondly, having a roundabout promise from Harry that he'd do anything to keep Draco happy was rather amusing to think about.

But how to phrase it? He couldn't write something like:  _because we deserve a chance at love and happiness_ – which would be so blatantly Hufflepuff that it would clearly be a lie.  _Because Astoria pointed out that it was the only option_ sounded downright insulting. 

There  _had_ to be a reason that was not only honest but not condescending or likely to give Harry false hope. With a sigh, Draco let his mind go blank and willed his hand to just write something.

_Because I owe you my life and so the least I could do is try things your way._

Huh... That actually... made sense. And more importantly, he now felt like a bastard because it was true. But he didn't want to sacrifice the rest of his life to a man he didn't really get along with simply because he owed a life debt.

Dipping his quill, he added:  _For the next six months, I will be married to you in every sense of the word. I'll put in my best effort to make it work out between us. All I ask in return is that when the six months are up, if I still want a divorce, you agree without a single argument._

_Is this acceptable to you?_

After that, Draco read and reread his note a few times before pulling out a fresh piece of official Malfoy stationary and writing the the carefully selected words in his most refined script. Satisfied with the result, he signed it with a simple  _Draco_ and sent it off.

 

***

 

After a three hour debate fueled by wine (mostly for Hermione) and ale (for Harry and Ron), Harry reached a decision. He didn't care that Hermione was certain that he'd get his heart broken. Nor did he care that Ron could list with excruciating detail every single bad thing that Draco had every done to Harry – such as the time he'd stomped on and broken Harry's nose.

None of that mattered because Harry wanted this. To be honest, he would want to give it a try no matter  _who_ he'd accidentally married. That said, he'd stared at his marriage certificate for years and dreamed about what it would be like to be married to Draco.

There would be fights, yes. Bickering about nearly everything was almost a given. Huge rows about stupid things that probably didn't matter seemed all too likely as well. But there also might be shagging – and if their wedding night was anything to go by, it would be  _fantastic_ ! And maybe...

Maybe there could be love...

If – after six months – love didn't seem likely, then at least he'd know for certain that he tried his best. With that in mind, he tore a scrap from a greasy take away menu and scrawled a note on the back of it.

_I accept but only if you prove you are serious by letting *me* announce it in the Prophet._

Approximately a half an hour later, he received a reply – a much less tidy and precise note that read: _Salazar's moldering grave, Potter! Are you trying to have me murdered in my sleep by overzealous sycophants?! I'm agreeing under protest and if I'm killed in the middle of Diagon Alley, I am holding *you* personally responsible!_

Harry finished reading the note with a grin. He looked up at his best friends and gave into the urge to swamp them both in a smothering hug. He even kissed them both on the cheek!

“Oi, 'Mione, I need you to write up a nice article for the Daily Prophet explaining what happened.”

With a sigh and a faint smile, Hermione nodded.

 

***

 

The next morning, Draco half fell out of his bed when a house elf informed him that his mother was insisting on his presence for breakfast. He pressed a hand to his head and wondered if he had remembered to brew more hangover potion after his last wild night out. Without a word, the house elf handed him a vial, and then helped him get cleaned up and dressed.

Around ten minutes later, he was feeling much better as he entered the main parlor. It was bigger and usually reserved for entertaining guests, but it also had a better view of the sun rising over the garden – which was magically preserved despite the lateness of the season. Narcissa would probably clear the garden out soon to allow it to sleep until spring – and thus, was taking advantage of the view while she still could.

In any case, the parlor was naturally chilly from the mid November air, so a nice fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace. Lucius and Narcissa were already seated at a rectangular table perfect for six people – with Lucius at the head and Narcissa on his left. Draco took his place on his father's right, across from his mother.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

“Like the dead,” Draco assured his mother. This was code for having gotten drunk and passing out. “You?”

“As well as always,” she replied with a faint smile. This was code for the occasional nightmare.

Draco reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You're looking lovely this morning. New dress?”

Narcissa smiled more genuinely. “Yes. I bought a few new dresses since it's that time of year when heavier fabrics are not only more stylish, but provide a lovely warmth.”

“That reminds me, I should visit my tailor,” Draco murmured. Lucius nodded in agreement since he had the same need.

The house elves served their breakfast just then. Draco – as was his habit – had a light breakfast of a croissant served with melon and tea. Narcissa liked a variety of veggies fresh from her garden, and Lucius preferred a small plate of scrambled eggs on toast. None of them really spoke much as they ate – mostly because they were still waiting for the tea to wake them up.

One of their majestic eagle owls returned from its morning job of retrieving their subscription to the Daily Prophet, flying in through a window and landing on a perch next to Lucius' ornate chair. Lucius untied the paper from the owl and unrolled it so that he could read the front page. His expression immediately turned to one that a person might wear if they were standing over a cesspit.

“It seems that one of Potter's friends sold him out.”

Draco looked up with a confused frown. “How so?”

“The front page is a letter written by Ms. Granger on how Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy eloped in a fit of teenaged drunkenness,” Lucius explained. “Complete with a photo of the certificate for proof.”

“Merlin's hairy arse! I was hoping that Potter was joking about that,” Draco stated with a sigh of defeat as he rested his forehead on his right palm.

“Good thing I had the foresight to strengthen the wards against howlers on the off chance that word got out,” Narcissa murmured as she sipped on her tea.

Lucius sent a small smile at his wife. “Fortunately, Ms. Granger had the decency to write that Mr. Potter will not take kindly to anyone harassing his...” he paused to suppress a sigh of distaste, although his expression still announced it loud and clear. “ _Husband_... She also claims that the reason this is being announced now is that you both feel you are finally old enough to be interested in marriage.”

“Sounds like she is being rather diplomatic,” Narcissa remarked. “Breaking the story in a way that might – hopefully – minimize the unpleasant consequences of the scandal.”

Lucius stroked his chin in though for a moment. “What do you think is Potter's endgame, Draco?”

Draco rolled his eyes and gave his father an obviously fake cheery smile. “Why to turn us both into Hufflepuffs and play happy families until death do us part. Didn't you realize?”

“You really think he'll force you to remain married to him the rest of your life?” Lucius questioned in surprise.

Draco sighed, morose at the very thought. “Fortunately, I got him to agree to a six month time limit.”

Lucius nodded slowly. “That's not too unreasonable, I suppose.”

Before Draco could reply, the fire roared and turned green. A moment later, Theo and his wife Daphne emerged from the fire and brushed off their casual yet immaculate daytime outfits. Then they looked over at the Malfoys – Theo holding up the paper in his hand.

“Draco, are you aware of what the Prophet is saying?” Theo wondered as he and his wife tilted their heads and stared at Draco with expressions reminiscent of someone studying a new and fascinating species.

Once again, before Draco could say anything, the fire roared and flared. This time, Millie and Greg stepped from the fireplace, both wearing slightly worn clothes that suggested they'd just finished getting ready for work. Millie held a paper in her hand and they both gave Draco looks of utter confusion. He held up his hand to stop them from repeating Theo. The four visitors hastily made room as the fire turned green once more.

“ _Have you read the paper_?!” Pansy demanded as she and Blaise half stumbled into the room. She was wearing a rather scandalously revealing garment while her husband seemed to have barely tossed on a bathrobe.

“The sodding Savior seems to have lost his mind,” Blaise added as he held up the paper and waved it back and forth.

“ _Why_ would that idiot Gryffindor claim to be married to you?!” Pansy demanded as she rushed forward to give Draco a kiss on the cheek.

Draco returned the kiss before focusing on Daphne. “You mean your sister didn't tell you?”

“Theo and I just returned from holiday last night. I haven't had time to talk to my sister about anything,” Daphne admitted.

Pansy growled softly and dug her nails into the back of Draco's neck to remind him how much she loathed being ignored. He looked up at her, piercing her with his most Malfoy gaze until she harrumphed and lifted her hand. Satisfied, Draco invited her to have a seat. House elves had to hastily make room at the table for all of their unexpected guests.

Draco dug his much abused copy of the certificate out of his pocket and handed it over to his favorite hell cat. Pansy took it curiously and tried to flatten it out on the table. She goggled in shock.

“ _You mean it's true?!_ ”

“Unfortunately,” Draco murmured, secretly amused that all his friends had arrived in a shocking and highly _un_ -Slytherin show of support.

“Bloody hell!” Theo, Blaise, Greg, and Millie blurted out.

“Quite,” Draco agreed calmly.

Pansy firmly pushed her right pointer finger into the certificate. “How in the buggering hell did this happen, _Draco_?!”

“I was drunk,” he stated, trying to seem as composed as ever.

Pansy rubbed her forehead as if trying to ward off a headache. “Let me get this straight,” she bade as she tapped the date on the certificate. “Mere _days_ after buggering Harry sodding Potter nearly _murdered_ you in the sixth floor boys bathroom, you thought it was a good idea to get drunk and _marry him_?!?!”

Draco couldn't stop himself from blushing. “I was drunk! I'm pretty sure there wasn't much thinking going on!”

Blaise leaned around his wife and grabbed Draco by the collar to tug him closer. “So wait, if there wasn't thinking going on, does that mean that you got to shag the chosen arse?”

“ _Blaise_!” Theo, Daphne, Millie, and Draco cried out in protest.

“ _What_?!” Blaise roared in frustration. “Like we aren't all dying to know!”

Pansy smacked her husband upside the back of the head. “Save that line of questioning for later on when we get Draco drunk again and he's more likely to give details.”

Draco tried to regain the conversation by basically pretending that Blaise hadn't said anything. “He was apologizing, so I was obligated to share at least one drink with him. Which somehow turned into half the bottle, but that's not the point. The point is that it happened and now we've agreed to give the marriage a six month trial. If we haven't miraculously turned into Hufflepuffs by then, we'll get a divorce and probably never see each other again.”

“Who's idiotic idea was that?” Pansy asked, and then held up a hand to forestall an answer. “Wait, my question answered itself. Why did you agree to it?”

In keeping with the theme of the morning, Draco was prevented from answering by an event that startled them all. A magnificent ephemeral stag ran into the room through the window and stood majestically as it looked around for a moment. When it spotted Draco, it walked forward and bowed its head slightly, as if it thought him beneath it but was required to show deference.

“Morning Draco,” Harry's voice emanated from the stag. He sounded mildly chipper. “I ran out of time so I couldn't send you an owl. I'm going to be at work all day, but since you can Apparate or Floo into my house, feel free to bring your things over while I'm gone. You can have Kreacher help you if necessary. Let me know if you want to go out for dinner tonight or stay in. I think that's all... Oh! If Walburga gets on your nerves, tell her to stop wailing like a banshee and spell her curtain shut. However, she really liked you and won't shut up about you, so that probably won't be necessary. See you later.”

And with that, the stag disappeared. Draco was mildly flustered all over again because he hadn't thought that Harry would insist that he move in. He really hadn't thought that Harry would let him in the house unsupervised!

“My aunt Walburga?” Narcissa asked in amusement. She'd been silent as she listened to these youngsters chastise her son – which was also rather amusing – but now had to wonder why Harry was talking about her aunt. (Meanwhile, Lucius had been pretending to ignore them all as he read his paper.)

“As you might remember, Potter inherited the Black fortune,” Draco reminded her. “And he's been living...” His lips twisted unhappily for a moment as he realized that he couldn't actually say it out loud. “There.”

“Ah, in that case, do snoop around and see if there are any family heirlooms that I might like,” Narcissa suggested with a smile.

Draco responded with a light nod, thinking that _that_ would be low on his list of priorities.

Millie stood up and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. “Listen, Greg and I have to get to work. If asked, should we confirm the article or claim we haven't the foggiest?”

“May as well confirm it, but _only_ if asked, mind,” Draco replied. He didn't relish the idea of the news getting around, but he was fairly certain that he couldn't stop it at this point either. With a nod, she and Greg left.

“I should probably go talk to my sister,” Daphne murmured, feeling a little guilty that she hadn't done so first. Theo stood up and held out his hand to help his wife to her feet. Daphne kissed Draco on the cheek while Theo patted his back and murmured: “Good luck.”

“We've nothing better to do, so we may as well help you pack,” Pansy said with a shrug.

Draco knew that she actually wanted him to give her and Blaise more details than he was comfortable with in front of his parents. With a shrug of his own, he stood up and beckoned them to follow him. “Yeah, alright.”

 

***

 

Draco couldn't decide which would be better – diner in private with Harry so that they had nothing to do but eat and make awkward conversation, or dinner out in public where they'd be on display like animals in a zoo. Both had the potential to be excruciating, but in public, they'd have to be on their best behavior, which might help Draco refrain from hexing the sodding boy who lived.

Neither seemed like a good option, so he decided to try something unusual: complete honesty.

_Dear Harry,_

_While I do appreciate you letting me choose our dinner plans tonight, I can't decide. When my options are specimen in a zoo or the privacy necessary to murder each other, neither choice seems like a good idea. I suppose that specimen in a zoo might be slightly safer though._

_Tremulously, Draco._

 

***

 

Harry cast a Patronus. “Hermione, what does Tremulously mean?”

After the stag disappeared, it was only about a minute before an otter burst into existence in his office. “It means something similar to nervous.”

This surprised Harry. Stroking his chin, he muttered: “Must have meant tremendously, the prat.” He honestly couldn't see Draco admitting to having nerves.

He cast his Patronus again. “Ask Hermione: What's that posh muggle place we went to for your birthday last year?”

Rather than receive a quick reply by Patronus, Hermione sent an interoffice memo. It took nearly ten minutes longer, but it had the benefit of being a piece of paper with a name, telephone number, address, directions, and Apparation coordinates on it. Harry reckoned the information was worth a bit of a wait. When he had a moment to take a break, he Apparated to the nearest place where his mobile got reception. Two minutes later, he had reservations for two at half seven.

 

***

 

When Draco arrived at the coordinates Harry's owled him, he was surprised to find Harry wearing a casual suit. The trousers and jacket were both a creamy off white while the button up shirt was a lightly shimmering black – which appeared to be made out of either silk or satin (he'd need to feel it up to know for sure). Or – more likely – one of those synthetic muggle fabrics. There was no tie, the jacket was hanging open, and the top two buttons were undone, but none of that mattered because Harry looked surprisingly sexy.   


Draco had to bite his lip to prevent a gasp of shock. He  _couldn't_ prevent a soft moan of appreciation. The best part of all might just be the fact that Harry had managed to make his hair look artfully windblown rather than like an acromantula nest.

Meanwhile, Draco was wearing his best set of casual robes suitable for a dinner at the best place on Diagon Alley. Which was intended to make a statement that he was was the sole heir to one of the sacred 28 families. People could hate him for being married to Harry all they wanted, but he was going to maintain his dignity no matter what.

“Oh! Er...” Harry bit his lip as he looked Draco over. “You look really good, but I'm taking us someplace muggle. Do you want to cancel, change quick, or maybe transfigure your robes?”

Transfiguring his robes was simple enough, so that's what he did. Using Harry as a rough template, Draco was soon wearing a casual suit as well. However, his was a light shade of gray that actually made his normally pale complexion seem warm. His jacket was buttoned mid torso to mostly cover a light blue shirt that highlighted his gray eyes. Lastly, he wore a tie that matched his jacket that was decorated with a golden tie pin that matched a handkerchief in his left breast pocket.

“How's this?”

“Looks good,” Harry praised with a warm and genuine smile. Before he could lose his nerve, he beckoned for Draco to follow him. They stepped out from the alley containing the designated Apparation point, crossed the street, and entered a prestigious restaurant in Mayfair called Greenhouse. 

Draco looked around with interest. The place seemed to be surround by a “secret” garden that was unexpected in the midst of a city – residential area or not. Also, Draco liked how Greenhouse could be a subtle reference to Slytherin.

The staff was helpful and friendly, putting Draco at ease despite being muggles rather than house elves. The wine list was rather impressive – which he just loved. Best of all, Harry had been here before and knew what he wanted – an arctic char marinated in sake. Draco was curious enough that he ordered a meal that was designed to offer a little taste of just about everything. To his delight, there was a sampler option for all the excellent wines too.

They made awkward small talk while they waited for their starters – which was white truffle risotto for Harry and foie-gras for Draco. Then they ate in near silence. Until the wine loosened their lips a little.

“I had no idea that muggles could be so refined with their food,” Draco murmured. “I'd thought, well, I suppose I thought that they would eat simpler food since they didn't have house elves to prepare dishes that were both delicate and intricate.”

Harry smiled at him. “That would probably be true if not for the growing number of muggles who serious love food and devote all their time and energy into making dishes that are the highest quality possible.”

Draco shrugged. “The only muggle places I've ever been to were all pubs or clubs that my friends – mainly Pansy and Blaise – dragged me to. The drinks might be refined in some of those places, but the food certainly wasn't.”

They talked about the clubs for a bit – both surprised to find that they'd visited the same gay club on several occasions, but never at the same time. By the time the petits fours arrived, they'd agreed to visit the club together on Friday night. Then Harry finally gathered up the nerve to say something that had been on his mind all day.

“Listen... Draco...” he began slowly, fighting the urge to mess up his somewhat well-behaved hair by running a hand through it. “I want to tell you something while we're fairly relaxed.”

Draco took a sip of his wine to give himself a moment to push away a strange flash of apprehension. “Alright.”

“In your letter, you promised to be married to me in every sense of the word,” Harry reminded him. “I'm not sure what that means to a pureblood, but to me, that means sleeping in the same bed at night and having sex when we're both in the mood. I just wanted to be clear about that.”

Draco couldn't exactly argue that because he was eager to have another opportunity to shag Harry. However, sharing a bed might be strange at first. Most of his lovers in the past ten years were not the type to stay the night. Or vice versa. 

Slowly, he nodded in agreement.

Clearly relieved, Harry smiled and pressed on. “And I'd like you to try being faithful.”

Draco pressed his lips together for a moment. “Does that mean I have to somehow manage to fend off Blaise and Pansy when they are determined to molest me?”

Harry raised a brow curiously. “Your friends molest you?”

Draco grinned. “Perhaps molest is a strong word. More like get me drunk and drag me to bed with them.”

“Does that happen often?” Harry wondered, strangely amused.

Draco shrugged. “A couple of times a year – more often in the winter when it grows cold and they have nothing better to do than try to keep warm.” He then looked away, suddenly nervous again. “It happened earlier as they helped me sort through my wardrobe and decide what to bring with me.”

Harry wasn't exactly happy to hear that, but he wasn't angry either. He hadn't yet told Draco not to do anything like that. He also sensed that this might become a big issue in the future if he tried to control it too much.

“Alright,” he murmured. “I don't want to be a point of contention between you and your friends, so they won't count as infidelity, just...”

Draco was surprised that Harry was being so mature and agreeable. Which made him that much more curious about what Harry was hesitating over. “What?”

Harry huffed a wry laugh. “I just can't decide if I want to know about it or not.”

“Just so you know, I spend far more time with them _not_ shagging than shagging, so the majority of the time, it's not an issue,” Draco told him, feeling strange – which he wasn't sure if it was good or bad – about being so open and honest. “Anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Do you have the occasional night when you get pissed with Granger and her weasel and end up near destroying a bed in your enthusiasm?”

Harry was equal parts amused and horrified, which made his vibrant green eyes wider than normal and his lips twist interestingly. “No!” He chuckled and shook his head. “I've never once thought of either of them that way.”

“Really?” Draco asked, not quite able to wrap his head around this concept. “Seems like a bit of a waste,” he added with a shrug.

Harry looked to the ceiling pensively. “Well... I did have Ginny, who's a bit like the best parts of both Ron and Hermione rolled into one, so maybe that's why.”

“Do you want her to be your exception to the rule?” Draco asked, once again grateful that Harry had picked a place that wasn't in wizarding public. They were having a fairly decent conversation – whereas they might well have given into the urge to start arguing by now if they were alone.

“I... I suppose. Maybe. Not sure I could do something like that without feeling guilty, even with permission,” Harry admitted.

Draco sighed and reached his left hand – which was slightly closer – across the table to take hold of Harry's hand. “As I see it, you said that you would do whatever it took to make your spouse happy. Well, that's always been my goal for marriage too. That means that I am willing to let you have whatever you want. If me being faithful aside from the rare bit of play with Blaise and Pansy is what you want, then that's what I'll do. But don't hold yourself to a different standard. If I have an exception to the rule, then you deserve one too. It can be anyone you want and it can change if you need it to. All I need to know is who it is so that I'm not knocked off kilter if I come home and interrupt anything.”

Harry looked at his hand in Draco's. He liked having it there. He wondered how long they'd hold hands if Harry changed the subject and didn't remind Draco about what they were doing.

“The last thing I wanted to talk about is rings,” Harry said, looking into Draco's eyes again. “I think we should go shopping for wedding bands this weekend. Or wait; does your family have some as part of your heirloom collection?”

“Yes and no,” Draco admitted. “Traditionally, the men in our family wear a signet ring on their left ring finger once married, and we do have a variety of those made over the centuries. We also have quite the selection of gorgeous rings made for the women we marry. However, I can't picture you agreeing to wear this.” Draco held up his right hand to show off the thick gold band that was carved with the Malfoy crest. This meant that the focal point was a stylized M on a shield that had a snake-like dragon on either side and a couple of actual snakes wound around each other on the top.

Harry looked at the ring carefully for a long and silent moment. “Actually, I don't think I'd mind.” He slowly – as if afraid to spook Draco – held up his right hand. “What about this? Would you wear this?”

Draco looked at the gold band that was similarly thick with a wide flat area. Rather than have a shield, the relatively plain ring had a Gryffin hanging as if descending for a landing while facing the onlooker. Its wings were stretched wide and were reminiscent of angel wings. Under the paws was HJP in bold letters. It was without a doubt the epitome of Harry, but at the same time, it actually wasn't that bad. Even so...

“Er... No,” Draco stated flatly. “I simply cannot wear a Gryffin.” Then he sighed in defeat. “Oh fine. Hand it over.”

Harry looked like he was both baffled and amused. With a light shake of his head, he pulled his ring off and slipped it onto Draco's left ring finger – which meant that they were now no longer holding hands – which mildly saddened Harry. In return, Draco pulled his signet off and slipped it on Harry's finger.

“There.”

Harry cleared his throat. “So, er... Do you think it's time we went home?”

Draco perked up. “Are you asking what I think you're asking?”

“Only if that's what you want,” Harry murmured, looking away in case he was rejected.

“Believe me, that's the one thing I'm looking forward to about this whole marriage trial,” Draco informed him honestly.

With a tiny smile, Harry tossed more than enough money on the table to pay for their meal. “Then let's go.”

Approximately ten minutes later, Harry was trying his best to hide how nervous he was. He hadn't lied about his experiences, but if he were honest, he hadn't had sex in... half a year? Maybe longer. And maybe it was stupid, but he was mildly afraid that he'd forget everything he knew and be such a terrible lay that Draco would never want to shag him again.

In an attempt to keep his pitiful lack of a love life a secret, Harry practically attacked Draco the moment they were alone in Harry's bedroom. He pushed Draco's suit jacket off as quickly as possible, and then devoted himself to nipping and licking each patch of revealed skin as he unbuttoned the blue shirt. He had no idea why, but it tickled his fancy to leave Draco's tie in place.

Draco was clearly enjoying the attention, especially when Harry reached his trousers and unfastened the belt buckle. This actually triggered at least one responsible brain cell, making Harry grab his wand and cast a spell on Draco to see if he had any nasty surprises that would need to be treated before the fun truly started. Thankfully, Draco lit up as clean. So did Harry, which he did solely to prove to Draco that there was nothing to worry about.

After that, Harry dropped to his knees and finished removing Draco's trousers. Draco smirked as he slid his shirt off and shifted as necessary for Harry to pull his trousers off his legs.

“I find the sight of you on your knees before me utterly intoxicating,” he drawled, his voice thick with lust.

“Oh?” Harry asked with interest. “You want me to be submissive?”

Draco grinned all the wider. “Well, can't say I dislike the idea, but actually, right now, I'm more interested in what you plan to do next.”

Harry licked a broad stripe up the inside of Draco's right thigh as he thought over all his options. Draco groaned softly in longing. Somewhat tenderly, he carded his fingers through Harry's hair, surprised by how soft it was.

Coming to a decision, Harry sucked on Draco's semi erect shaft quite vigorously until it was as rigid as possible. To his delight, it was long and thin – looking perfect for anal sex. But first, Harry had other plans. Using a little wandless magical assistance, Harry pushed Draco onto his bed, flipping him and draping him over the side – provoking a startled gasp in the process.

Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry curiously. Rather than climb fully on top of him as Draco expected, Harry tugged on his hips and pushed his legs apart so that Draco was completely exposing his naked hole.  _Just like a Gryffindor to rush straight to the end_ , Draco thought in wry amusement, but Harry surprised him.

Settling himself comfortably, Harry pried Draco's cushy arse cheeks apart and dove in for a taste. Draco gasped again, and then pressed his forehead into a hastily grabbed pillow to muffle his loud moans. It soon became apparent that Harry had had a  _lot_ of practice at this at some point. It didn't take long at all for Draco's legs to shake from the pleasure.

When Draco started begging – something Harry hadn't expected to ever hear from him – Harry shifted and opened his trousers just enough to push down his pants and free his leaking shaft. Using a few spells, he was soon oiled up and ready to push into that tight hole. It was soft and smooth, both indications that it was used to such intrusions. Harry groaned from the glorious heat as he sunk ever deeper and deeper.

“Fuck!” Draco blurted out into the pillow, and then shifted his head to be heard better. “Pound me!”

Harry was more than happy to oblige. They both got to the very edge of climax rather quickly. Draco was torn between giving into the blissful heat and holding out for as long as possible. Both options had merit. On the one hand, he could stroke himself and reward Harry with the feeling of an orgasm rippling all over him. On the other, he could wait until Harry was done and then take a turn with that firm arse.

Oh... decisions...

Thankfully, Harry took the decision out of his hands by groaning in profound relief as he pumped Draco full. They panted erratically as they rested for a minute, and then Harry withdrew and climbed onto the bed to lay down while he finished recovering. Draco took this as his cue to strip Harry naked. He also took the time to leave a trail of love bites across Harry's chest and neck.

Harry groaned, unable to believe that his shaft was twitching with interest so soon. “Merlin's raunchy hole! You're going to be the death of me!”

Draco smirked, pleased to hear this. “Oh I certainly hope so. Shall we try for at least three deaths tonight?”

Harry groaned again, wondering if he had the stamina for that much sex. “Er... yeah... sounds good.”

With those words of encouragement, Draco made it his mission to take Harry thoroughly apart and keep going until he begged for mercy. By the time he was ready to enter Harry, Harry had already had his second orgasm and was quickly approaching his third.

“ _Draco_!” Harry whined needily. “Just pound me already!”

Draco hummed in agreement, far too worked up to argue or delay things any longer. He worked his way into Harry and then picked a moderately demanding pace that not only pounded Harry into the bed, but also made Draco feel like he was seeing stars.

To his consternation, he didn't have the ability to last more than a couple of thrusts. To his delight, the same was true for Harry. Only a couple of tugs on Harry's shaft had him nearly squealing from orgasm, triggering Draco's. Both were so thoroughly sated that they passed out within seconds of Draco collapsing on Harry.

In the morning, Harry was so blissfully content that he cherished the armful of Draco for a long time. Long enough for his usual morning erection to demand attention from between them. When Harry felt Draco poking into him rather uncomfortably, he gave into the urge to see if he could make Draco happy before he was even fully awake.

Draco woke up to the brilliant feeling of Harry rubbing their well-oiled shafts together while wanking them with one of his strong hands. If his brain had managed to bring even one brain cell online, it quickly went back offline again as he surrendered to the feeling of:  _Oh fuck yes! Don't stop! Don't ever stop!_

An unexpected flash of light followed by an urgent: “Harry, where are you?” Startled them both into their orgasm a moment later.

As they panted from the aftermath, the silvery otter disappeared and was replaced a moment later by another. “Your boss is wondering why you aren't at work since you were due in an hour ago.”

There was a moment of silence until yet another otter arrived. “Please answer me. I don't want to come over there lest I interrupt something awkward, but we need some assurance that you're still breathing.”

Harry sighed, his obvious attempt at ignoring his best friend failing miserably. With a wave of his hand, he summoned his wand, and then used it to cast a Patronus. When the stag looked at him curiously – even going so far as to tilt its head to the side as if wondering what in the world Harry had been doing – he chuckled in amusement.

“Tell Hermione: Still breathing. Heavily. Only died a half dozen times. So far. Not working today.”

When the otter returned, it rolled around and around in the air as if it was dying of laughter. “That's what I thought! Your poor boss has just gone off to Obliviate himself. I'll fill out the appropriate paperwork for you to have the day off. Have fun!”

Before Harry and Draco could stop chuckling at the thought of the Head Auror horrified enough to Obliviate himself, Draco's personal house elf popped into the room. He was allowed through the wards specifically because Draco was, and it was part of his magic to be able to go wherever necessary in order to serve Draco.

“Master, Mistress Narcissa requires your presence for breakfast immediately.”

“Tell her to bugger off – Er, wait! Tell her that I send my regrets but that I am unable to join her for breakfast this morning,” Draco ordered with a light blush. Had his elf actually followed the first order, Draco would have found himself at the wrong end of his mother's wrath for the foreseeable future.

“Mistress said you might say that,” the elf murmured. “She said to tell you that if you do not arrive immediately, your friends – Mistress Pansy and Master Blaise – will find themselves the target of a nasty cutting hex and a silencing charm. The rest of your friends are well behaved enough that the Mistress doesn't mind their company.”

“Bugger,” Draco swore under his breath. “Bring me my light blue robes, Muffy.”

“Yes Master,” Muffy replied obediently before snapping her fingers and holding out the requested outfit.

“Should I come to breakfast too?” Harry wondered.

Draco snorted in amusement. “If you did, we'd only be stuck in the Manor all day as they all tried to pry as much information out of you as possible. If you stay here, I can eat breakfast, evade most of their questions, and send them off to mind their own business in about an hour.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed. “That'll give me time to do a few things.”

Draco was so worried about the possibility of Pansy and his mother hexing each other that he barely remembered to cast a detangling spell at his hair as he threw on his robes. Then he Apparated straight to his mother – who was in the main parlor once again so that she could oversee the elves as they worked to put the garden to sleep for the winter.

Pansy practically lit up at the sight of him from where she sat in between Narcissa and Blaise. “Draco, darling! You're looking tragically sleep-deprived and adorably disheveled this morning.”

“Pansy!” Draco blurted out with a blush. He spent a moment wondering which hex he should use on her.

“Well you are,” Greg pointed out helpfully before taking a bite of his sausage.

Rather than respond, Draco cast a spell to fix his apparent case of bedhead.

“I suppose that answers Blaise's rather crude question from yesterday,” Theo added.

“Which means you owe me 20 Galleons,” Blaise crowed, holding his hand out to Theo. Today, everyone was dressed as they should be when attending a semi formal breakfast.

Draco harrumphed somewhat petulantly as he took his seat at his father's right and accepted a cup of tea. “I don't know why I'm friends with any of you.”

“Because life would be _so dull_ without us to liven things up,” Pansy reminded him cheekily.

Draco harrumphed again. He then busied himself slathering a light layer of butter on his croissant.

“Do you see what I see, Pans?” Blaise asked in an overly serious tone.

“Why yes, I believe I do,” Pansy murmured in agreement with a catty grin, making both Millie and Theo snicker. (Daphne was at breakfast with her parents and sister.)

“What?” Draco asked, looking at them in confusion.

“If I'm not mistaken,” Blaise began, still sounding far too solemn. “There's definitely a hint of a stupid grin on your face.”

Draco hastily scrambled to erase all expression. “Hardly.”

“Oh? Hard, you say?” Millie heckled before taking a bite of her strawberry jam covered toast.

“Do tell us all about it,” Theo suggested as he tossed the 20 Galleons he owed Blaise across the table.

Draco gave him a frosty glare.

Pansy snorted. “Good luck with that! Draco doesn't give details like that unless he's pissed out of his mind.”

Draco turned his glare on her. “Which I am never doing again, ta ever so.”

Pansy waved that away as if she was certain it was only a matter of time. “In any case, I'm currently more interested in something else. How was dinner?”

Draco could feel a hint of a smile tug at his lips. “It was surprisingly... nice.”

His mother and Pansy both smiled at him. Theo looked surprised. Greg looked like he had no idea what they were talking about – why  _wouldn't_ dinner be nice? Meanwhile, Blaise and Millie looked mildly bored.

“Do you think you'll be able to make it through an entire six months without hexing Mr. Potter?” Narcissa asked, finding it utterly adorable how her son kept fighting not to blush as his friends heckled him about his sex life. It wasn't something she wanted to think about – and she suspected that _that_ was the reason he kept avoiding their questions – but it was rather amusing to see him so flustered.

Draco pursed his lips. “I suppose that depends on whether or not he keeps his promise to do whatever it takes to make me happy.”

“I had no idea Potter was that talented with his mouth,” Theo remarked as he picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet he'd brought from home.

Draco nearly choked on his melon.

“I did,” Greg muttered.

“What?!” Draco questioned with a heated glare. If one didn't know better, they'd think he might be jealous. This surprised his father, who – as usual – was pretending to ignore everyone while keeping a close eye on them from behind his paper.

“What?” Greg asked in confusion. “He's a mouthy bastard. Why? What were you all thinking?”

Blaise burst into raucous laughter while Millie, Theo, and Pansy snickered. Millie took pity on her husband a moment later and slung one arm over his shoulders so that she could whisper in his ear. She spoke quietly enough that no one else could really hear her, but the crude gesture she made with her other hand toward her mouth made her words quite clear. Greg blushed as red as he possibly could.

“Salazar no! How would I know that?!”

Draco couldn't help but laugh even as he felt a strange sense of relief. The rest of breakfast passed much more civilly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I intended this part to be the end of the series, but as it turns out, these boys were like: clearly, another part is needed.  
> The little bit of the next part I have planned so far contains fluff, and probably a bit more angst too, lol!


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